


Just talking

by Boudoir_Writer



Series: Never let you go [3]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Cooking, Domesticity, Gen, M/M, Nicky is a little shit, Nile Freeman is So Done, Nile joins the team, Nile meets dark!Nicky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:54:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29919948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boudoir_Writer/pseuds/Boudoir_Writer
Summary: Between dying and coming back and being essentially abducted and dragged all the way togoddamn France, Nile hasn’t had much time to realise just how hungry she is.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Never let you go [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2198307
Comments: 18
Kudos: 64





	Just talking

**Author's Note:**

> Somebody help, dark!Nicky has taken over my life!
> 
> This is a short and sweet Nile!POV. There will be several POVs in this series, though mainly it will be Joe!POV.
> 
> No triggers in this one, but, for context, this is part of the dark!Nicky series.
> 
> Unbeated

Between dying and coming back and being essentially abducted and dragged all the way to _goddamn France_ , Nile hasn’t had much time to realise just how hungry she is.

It hits her full force the moment she leaves the grimy bathroom of the safehouse, marginally cleaner than she was before. There’s a mouthwatering smell ambushing her just outside the door, and she stalks it all the way to a room that should be a kitchen, an iron stove, an assortment of cabinets and what looks like an ancient laundry sink in a corner.

The guy at the rickety wooden table dominating the room is intent on boning a chicken with quick precise movements. It reminds Nile of helping her mom prepare fried chicken - her dad’s favourite - and all of a sudden Nile hungers for home with an intensity that has her stomach in knots. She grits her teeth against it - _come on Freeman, get a fucking grip_ \- and takes a step closer instead.

“Smells great,” she says, nodding towards the pan sizzling on the stove. There’s a tiny twitch of lips, but the guy doesn’t look up. He has large hands but surprisingly nimble fingers. She watches as he feels for each joint and makes quick work of slicing through flesh and tendons.

“Joe’s favourite,” he offers with a lilting tone and a heavy accent - Italian, Nile thinks, but doesn’t want to assume.

Nile is still wrapping her head around her immortality situation and barely remembers the names Andy rattled out - there were three of them, beside Andy and Nile. “The one with the smile?” she blurts before she can think better of it. It's true though, that smile put her at ease for the first time since she jerked awake, against all odds, in the hospital tent.

Another twitch of lips. “That’s him, yes.”

“I’m Nile. And you are -”

“ _Nicky_ ,” it’s a bark from the door, a warning. Nile turns to find Andy there, eyes trained on the guy - Nicky - one hand behind her back, where Nile bets would find Andy’s fingers on her gun. There’s a commotion in the hallway then the other two, Joe and the Frenchman appear in the doorway, behind Andy. Joe squeezes past her into the kitchen and comes to stand between Nile and Nicky, with slow measured steps, at odds with the breathless gasp he releases once he’s there.

“Nile, come here,” Andy says and Nile knows what an order sounds like but she stalls, because, what the fuck? She’s a grown ass woman, and a _marine_. She doesn’t need to be watched like a toddler.

“Jeez, calm down,” she bristles, raising her hands. “We were just talking.”

“Yes, Andy,” Nicky adds. “Calm down. I promised Joe I’d be on my best behaviour, didn’t I?” He is looking at Andy with large, guileless eyes. The picture of innocence, Nile’s 5th grade teacher would say. “Plus, I like her,” he adds with a shrug, before returning to his task.

Andy works her jaw, the Frenchman mutters something and shakes his head.

“Yes, well,” Joe huffs but his shoulders relax a fraction. “That’s not exactly reassuring, is it?” He moves over to the stove, sniffs at the fragrant mix of spices toasting in the pan. “Oh, Nicky. Is this what I think it is?”

Nile can just glimpse something like glee spreading over Nicky’s face before Andy and the Frenchman manage to usher her away.

Sitting on the couch, flanked by Booker - name’s Booker, go figure - and Andy, she’s brought back to that time she was made to wait outside the principal’s office for her father to pick her up, because she punched that bully Henders in his stupid face for pulling up her skirt. “This is ridiculous,” she gripes. “I could be helping with dinner.”

Booker rolls his eyes and flicks through yet another sports channel. “Or you could _be_ dinner,” he mutters, Andy snorts and Nile - Nile frowns, because what the fuck is that supposed to mean?

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this lighter snippet into this verse. We should soon return to the angst - and filth. Because what happened to the filth???


End file.
